In Close Company
by fhestia
Summary: When a Muggle illness sweeps Hogwarts, Professors Snape and McGonagall succumb and are forced to spend their convalescence together with Madam Pomfrey overseeing their care.
1. Chapter 1

"Severus, Minerva, thank you both for coming here on such short notice," Poppy Pomfrey said, crossing the corridor from the dispensary as she saw her colleagues approach the office. "I know it's end of term and you must be terribly busy but I'm afraid we have some urgent matters to discuss."

"What is this all about?" Minerva asked, sinking into a comfortable armchair across from Poppy's desk.

Severus said nothing, refusing the offered seat in favor of pacing about the room.

"It's concerning the first-year Slytherin student who I recently treated in the infirmary."

Severus and Minerva exchanged a look. Poppy knew they were all thinking the same thing.

"He was transferred to St. Mungo's yesterday and I've just heard back from the Healer in charge of his case. Unfortunately, it's been determined he has pertussis."

"Pertussis?" Minerva asked, looking confused. "I've never heard of it."

"It's a Muggle illness," Severus said, his voice sounding weary. "A highly contagious Muggle illness."

Poppy nodded. "Muggles sometimes call it whooping cough. It's most contagious at the very beginning of the illness, when it appears to be only a mild cold."

"Then that means..."

"Everyone in the castle was exposed," Snape ground out, interrupting Minerva.

"The incubation period is five to ten days," Poppy said. "All of the students and staff will have to be tested for exposure before they are allowed to return home for their summer holidays."

Severus paused in his circuit of the room to unobtrusively start a fire blazing in the fireplace. Poppy noticed a small shiver chase itself across his back as he stood with his hands outstretched, warming them. The room felt comfortable to her, but she decided to let his obvious discomfort pass with no comment.

"Any students from Muggle homes should have been immunized against the illness, so that's something," Poppy continued, trying her best to sound encouraging. "But the students from wizarding families are at high risk, as are all of the staff members."

Snape turned and sat heavily in a chair near Minerva. "Why are the staff at particular risk?"

"Even if they are from Muggle homes and were immunized as children, the immunization loses its effectiveness over time."

"And is there no magical equivalent of an immunization against this disease?" Minerva asked, shifting her chair slightly to take advantage of the warmth now filling the room.

Poppy sighed and shook her head. "For scrofungulus and spattergroit and any other number of wizarding illnesses, yes; unfortunately, most Muggle illnesses are still overlooked."

"Even if there were an immunization, it would be of little use now," Severus said. "Why didn't you keep a containment ward around his bed if you suspected he had pertussis?"

"You know as well as I that it is nearly impossible to maintain a containment ward fine enough to filter bacteria or viruses. Besides, it appeared to be nothing more than a simple case of bronchitis. How was I to know?"

He waved a hand in grudging acceptance. "So we've all been exposed," he said tiredly. "Does that mean we'll necessarily become ill?"

"We may or may not," Poppy said. "There will be a team of Healers from St. Mungo's arriving tomorrow to determine if anyone else has been infected and to take steps to eradicate the bacteria from the environment."

"I'll admit I haven't been feeling myself today," Minerva said thoughtfully. "But I assumed I was coming down with a summer cold."

Severus crossed his arms, studiously ignoring the pair as they continued talking.

"And it's possible that's all it is, " Poppy reassured her. "But to be absolutely certain, the Healers have asked that anyone with concerning symptoms be isolated until the infectious period passes. In other words, any students or staff who show signs of the illness will be sent to St. Mungo's for two weeks."

"Oh, Poppy," Minerva said miserably. "Surely they don't expect us to stay at St. Mungo's all that time?"

"I would imagine they would, yes," Poppy said, tapping her fingers on her knee restlessly. "Unless we can think of something else."

"Can't we stay here in the ward?" Minerva suggested.

"Impossible, I'm afraid. The Healers have insisted that the castle be evacuated while they work. It would do no good for them to clean the area and then have us reinfect the space."

"Then why can't they wait until we've recovered?" Severus broke in impatiently. "If we're truly ill, that is," he added as an afterthought.

"It's nearly end of term," Poppy said. "The students must be examined before they're allowed to return to their homes and the team of Healers is already assembled and will arrive in the morning. We have no other choice."

"I refuse to go to St. Mungo's," Severus said flatly.

"I'm afraid we must, unless we can find another place to stay for two weeks."

"I have nowhere else to go," Minerva protested. "I had planned to stay with my sister this summer, at the manor, but I certainly can't now. The entire family will be there and I can't risk passing this along to the youngsters."

"No, you're quite right, it does tend to hit children harder than adults," Poppy said. "So we'll have to think of another location."

She turned to Severus, who was now sitting with his shoulders nearly touching his ears, "I don't suppose you know of a private, secure location with enough room for the three of us?"

"Your innocent look is not fooling me, Poppy," he said. "I know exactly what you have in mind and the answer is, unequivocally, 'no.'"

"I know it's a terrible imposition, but it would be for only two or three weeks. At any rate, I would think you'd be much more comfortable in your own home."

"It's out of the question," he said. "Besides, I doubt very much that I'm ill. You two will simply have to find another place to..." Severus paused and massaged his forehead with one hand. He took a deep breath and tried to continue, but sneezed instead.

Poppy passed him a handkerchief from her desk drawer. "Like it or not, I'm afraid you _are_ ill," she said. "Whether it's a cold or pertussis remains to be seen, but you might as well admit we're in this together and help us find a workable solution. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to spend your convalescence at St. Mungo's."

Severus held her eyes for a moment and then sagged slightly in his chair. "Very well," he said with a sigh.

"Excellent," Poppy said. "Now, there's no reason you can't both Apparate to Spinner's End this evening, once you're packed and ready."

"Just a moment," he said. "This is your 'workable solution?' You decide where we're to stay and when we're to leave?"

"If you're already having symptoms, then the sooner you can isolate yourselves, the better," she said. "And if you're still here when the Healers arrive tomorrow, you will almost certainly be packed off to St. Mungo's. It's your choice."

Poppy turned her attention to Minerva, who was looking uncertain and worrying a loose thread on the arm of her chair.

"Before you even ask," Poppy said, "It's been arranged for Filius and Pomona to oversee the students tomorrow. Everything will be taken care of, don't worry."

Minerva and Severus exchanged another look, which the matron ignored. She stood from her desk. "Best get a move on before you both begin to feel worse," she suggested. "The illness progresses rapidly once its gained a foothold."

She raised an eyebrow at another stifled sneeze from Severus. "Bless," she said mildly.

He gave her a curt nod and in one swift movement, rose from his chair and strode from the room. He paused outside the doorway and then turned back to address Minerva.

"I shall meet you at the Apparition point in one hour," he said.


	2. Chapter 2

"And how did I know you'd both be here?"

Minerva and Severus turned quickly at the irritated voice behind them, Minerva nearly upsetting the teapot in her surprise.

"Did you listen to nothing I had to say earlier?"

Poppy regarded them coolly, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised, waiting for an explanation.

The two professors exchanged a furtive glance before Minerva spoke up.

"Severus and I talked after we left your office."

"And?"

"And if this...this _persnuffus_ is as contagious as you say..."

"Pertussis," Poppy corrected her. "And yes, it is that contagious."

"Well then, everyone on staff has an equal risk of catching it, don't they? We were all exposed to the student in the course of conducting our classes."

"Exactly," Severus agreed. "And if we share the risk, then we see no reason to abandon our duties."

"You're failing to take into account that out of all the staff members, you two are the only ones thus far who are showing signs of illness."

"But what if it's just coincidence?" Minerva said. "It could be nothing more than a summer cold."

"It's highly unlikely that you would both come down with a cold at precisely the same time unless there were a common source of infection."

"There is always a common source of infection, Poppy," Severus said. "The pestilential little brats are constantly passing something around. It could be any of a number of illnesses. Why jump to the conclusion that we have pertussis?"

"I am hardly 'jumping to conclusions,'" Poppy said, hoping that her rising frustration level wasn't reflected in her voice. "Need I remind you that the only ill student requiring treatment recently has been positively identified as suffering from pertussis? The odds are that you both have it as well."

"I don't even feel that ill," Minerva said, obviously unwilling to concede the point.

"Nor do I," Severus said.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Poppy said, quickly withdrawing her wand from her robes. "You two are the most stubborn creatures on God's green earth. Now hold still," she snapped, running diagnostic scans while making an irritated tutting noise under her breath.

"How many doses of Pepperup have you had, Severus?" Poppy asked when she had finished the scan.

He flicked his eyes towards her and then looked away quickly. "Three since yesterday," he said.

"With no effect, I'll wager."

He shrugged. "That proves nothing."

"And Minerva?"

"Two just this morning," she said.

"How very interesting," Poppy said. "Two patients displaying unmistakable signs of an upper respiratory tract infection, resistant to Pepperup, of approximately two days' duration within the setting of an ill contact recently diagnosed with pertussis. How could I have _possibly_ thought that you might have come down with it, too? I can't imagine _what_ came over me."

"Sarcasm does not become you, Poppy," Severus said. The rest of his sentence was cut short as he was forced to scrabble for a handkerchief, finding one just in time to muffle a harsh sneeze which was quickly followed by a fit of coughing.

"Just listen to yourself!" she said in exasperation, trying to resist the urge to shake him. "You've obviously been ill for a few days and there is no telling how many people you've infected in that time."

Poppy turned to Minerva. "And don't look quite so self-righteous," she said. "According to the scan I just finished, you're not that far behind Severus. By remaining here, you will be doing far more harm than good."

Minerva started to speak, but Poppy held up a hand to silence her.

"Tomorrow morning, a team of Healers will arrive. Every single person in this castle will be thoroughly examined at that time. Any student who can demonstrate proof of vaccination will be allowed to leave. Any student or staff member not showing signs of an active infection will be allowed to leave after receiving preventative treatment. Anyone else who is displaying worrisome symptoms, staff included," she said with a severe look at her colleagues, "will be taken to St. Mungo's, no exceptions."

Poppy took their silence as proof that their resolve was weakening.

"Your choice as I see it is simple," she said. "Either you leave immediately or you will be shipped off to the St. Mungo's infectious disease ward where you'll have no privacy, get very little rest, and will be poked and prodded and interrogated within an inch of your life for the next two weeks or so. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes," Minerva said quietly, giving a delicate little shudder. Severus sighed in resignation.

"Excellent," Poppy said. "Provided that I remain healthy, I'll join you tomorrow after everything is squared away here. Now," she said, addressing Severus, "I understand your home is not connected to the Floo network?"

"It isn't," he said. "I never wished to be quite that accessible during the holidays."

"It's just as well," Poppy said, waving a hand dismissively. "Pertussis is a respiratory illness and I'd prefer you limit your exposure to Floo powder at the moment. Is it a convenient trip by carriage?"

Severus gave a derisive snort. "Convenient or not, my home is located in a mean little industrial town. I would rather not arrive with a flourish, if you don't mind."

"Then I will personally escort you both to the Apparition point. Finish your tea, go to your quarters and pack what you need. And be warned," she said, "if I don't see you in the entrance hall in twenty minutes, I will hunt you down and take you by force."

In the ringing silence that followed her pronouncement and exit from the Great Hall, Minerva leaned over and whispered to Severus, "She would, too."

* * *

As she Apparated to the narrow street Severus had described, the first thing Minerva noticed was a rank odor carrying on a breeze to where she stood. She choked slightly, dabbing at her suddenly streaming eyes.

Severus smiled ruefully. "It's the river," he explained. "Lovely, isn't it?"

Minerva took in the dingy, litter-strewn street and the row of two-story houses, each more rundown than the next, all huddled under a grey pall of smog.

"This is where you live in the summer?" she asked, her distaste obvious from her expression.

"Yes," he said, dropping the wards on the front door. "I'm sorry if it doesn't conform to your impeccably high standards."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Severus, I didn't mean it that way, truly. It's just..." She stepped hesitantly into the front room and left the rest of her thought unspoken.

The sitting room they entered was dark and oppressive, with bookshelves covering the walls from floor to ceiling. The only source of light was a candle-filled fixture which Severus was busily lighting. The air inside the house was still and musty, and it was preternaturally quiet, as if the house were alive and waiting for something. She shuddered and rubbed her arms briskly, feeling suddenly chilled.

"Make yourself at home," Severus said, and she turned to stare at him incredulously. She should be at Hogwarts still, making her final plans to stay at her sister's estate near Loch Linnhe, not trapped in a cheerless hovel with an equally cheerless companion. Minerva moved toward the tiny kitchen, just visible through the doorway.

Shabby curtains covered the windows at the back of the house, and as Minerva crossed the room to draw them back, they came away in her hand. She stared at the torn remnants of cloth dumbly for a moment, realizing that the weak sunlight was no brighter, struggling to make its through a layer of grime coating the panes. She withdrew her wand and with a murmured cleansing charm, the room lightened a bit although it still appeared bleak and depressing with worn and scorched floorboards, crude cabinets and a battered-looking old cook stove. The view outside the window, however, was surprisingly pleasant, with a small, tidy greenhouse to the side of a neat brick outbuilding.

Minerva startled at a sudden commotion from the sitting room and a few moments later, turned to see Severus entering the kitchen, squinting against the light. "Your luggage just arrived," he said curtly. "Shall I take your things upstairs?"

"If you don't mind," she said politely, still feeling very ill at ease in the unfamiliar surroundings. He stalked from the room without another word to her. Listening to his heavy tread on the stairs and then the creak of floorboards above her head, Minerva wondered for a brief moment if she had done something to offend him, realizing with a pang that her mere presence in his house was an offense to him.

She sighed and began a systematic search of the cupboards for anything she could use to make tea. The cabinet doors that weren't hung crookedly were stuck, forcing her to jerk hard at them before they opened. The contents of the cabinets were sparse: A few dishes and cups, and very little in the way of food. As she searched, there were a few times she was certain she saw something scurrying from the light, but she chose not to dwell on it. She would make the best of it. She was still feeling fairly well and after a thorough cleaning, the place wouldn't be so bad.

Minerva set a teapot on the counter and used her wand to fill it with fresh, boiling water. She added the tea leaves she had scraped from the bottom of a canister on the counter. The tea didn't smell terribly fresh, but she was not going to be choosy at the moment. She leaned against the counter as the tea brewed, lost in her own thoughts. She was startled when she heard Severus begin coughing, and as he continued, she thought to go upstairs and offer some assistance.

Minerva rushed into the front room and stood looking around in a daze. Where was the staircase? She peered behind the bookcases, finally locating the doorway, but by that time, she could hear the sound of water running through the pipes and decided to leave him in peace. She suddenly felt completely exhausted. Whether it was from the recent Apparition or something else she wasn't certain, but all she wanted to do was sit down somewhere and put her feet up. She glanced around at the only available surfaces; a threadbare old couch and a chair with uneven legs, both covered liberally with dust. Making her decision, Minerva walked back into the kitchen. She would rest later.

She poured a cup of tea and frowned at both the color and consistency. Steeling herself, she took a sip and grimaced at the bitter taste, wishing for something to sweeten it with.

"I'm afraid there's neither honey nor sugar in the house until I can go to the market," she heard him say from the doorway.

She sighed. "Honestly, Severus, how do you live like this?"

"Normally, I have time to provision the house before I move in for the summer," he said, coming to stand next to her. "And needless to say, I very seldom have house guests."

Minerva studied him closely out of the corner of her eye, concerned at how his voice had deteriorated since their arrival. She could tell from his strained expression and pale complexion he wasn't feeling well, but he looked cozy enough in a worn but comfortable-looking jumper, hair still damp from his shower.

"Tea?" she asked, holding a cup out to him.

He accepted the cup, his nose wrinkling at the smell. "It has the distinct aroma of a chicken yard," he said, replacing it on the counter.

Minerva laughed. "It does, doesn't it?" She shook her head, and then closed her eyes as the room suddenly began to tilt crazily beneath her feet. Her cup crashed to the floor as she reached towards the counter to steady herself.

"Minerva? What's wrong?"

"Just feeling dizzy," she said, her voice shaking. "It's nothing. I'll be fine in a moment."

She felt him grip her firmly by the arms and allowed herself to be led over to a chair at the rickety table. With gentle pressure, he lowered her head between her knees.

"Deep breaths," he told her, resting a hand on her back.

After a few moments, she lifted her head, passing a trembling hand over her eyes.

"Better?" he asked.

"A bit," she said, slumping backwards into the chair.

"Your face is flushed," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Is it?" she asked, raising a shaky hand to her own cheek, surprised to feel heat emanating from her skin.

"I'm going to assume you're running a temperature since I feel feverish myself," he said, placing his hand against her forehead. She was surprised to find that his hands, rather than work-roughened, felt smooth and cool. "You're quite warm," he said, nodding. "I would say 38.5, perhaps a bit less."

"How in the world could you possibly know that?"

"Years of experience," he said with a sardonic lift of an eyebrow. "One of the necessary evils of being Head of Slytherin House. You should certainly understand that."

"I should?"

While it was true she had plenty of experience dealing with ill students, she generally took care of matters by marching the students directly to Poppy while delivering an encouraging talking-to. The image of Severus Snape tending personally to his ill Slytherins filled her with a sense of wonder.

"I have fever draughts on hand, but I don't want to give you anything without first checking with Poppy," he said. "You should rest in the meantime. There are two bedrooms upstairs that you can use if you'd like to lie down."

She nodded and rose to her feet slowly. "Which bedroom do you usually occupy?"

"That doesn't matter. Poppy will be joining us tomorrow and she'll need a room as well."

"But Poppy and I can share a room," Minerva said.

"That won't be necessary. And if you have separate bedrooms, then I won't have to listen to two quarrelsome old witches arguing over their personal space."

"Severus, this is your home. We can't kick you out of your own bedroom."

He stood suddenly and walked to the sink, taking his time rinsing his cup and placing it on a towel to dry. With a flick of his wand, he cleaned the shattered remains of the other cup before answering her. "I don't sleep well when I'm ill," he said, without turning around. "I'm most comfortable sitting up in a chair."

Minerva took in his tall, lanky frame, trying to imagine him passing a night in the rickety chair with uneven legs she'd spotted in his sitting room.

"If you're sure?" she said doubtfully, suddenly lacking the energy to argue any longer.

"I insist," he said, taking her by the arm and leading her out of the kitchen. As they passed through the darkened sitting room heading for the stairs, Minerva paused, brandished her wand and deftly transfigured the broken-down old chair into an expansive, overstuffed armchair with a wide footrest. After a moment's rest to catch her breath, she changed a rather thin, tatty-looking throw into a thick, woolen blanket.

"I can find my own way upstairs," she said softly, noticing the look of longing that suddenly appeared on his face as he took in the sight of the transformed chair. "I think we'll both feel better after a little rest."


	3. Chapter 3

Minerva paused in the doorway of the upstairs bedroom, feeling as if she'd stepped into another dwelling entirely. The room was dominated by an imposing poster bed. The bed clothes were sumptuous, of varying fabrics and textures, and pillows were arranged haphazardly at the head. Within easy reach was a side table with books stacked on the top surface. In one corner of the room sat a tidy tambour desk surrounded by even more books. All the furniture angled toward a large window, where a towering elm softened the harsh angles of the skyline and filtered the evening light streaming into the room.

This private retreat was more in keeping with what she knew of Severus, with everything orderly and well-kept. All at once Minerva felt out of place yet completely at home. Out of curiosity, she stepped across the hall to peer into the other bedroom. It was a bit smaller and lacked the pleasant view, but was also neat and cheerful, with a comfortable-looking bed, an armchair and a wall of bookshelves. Minerva smiled, thinking of his claim that he seldom had house guests; looking at this cozy space, it seemed improbable.

She turned back to Severus' bedroom. She really wasn't feeling well at all, and although she still didn't think she'd caught persnuffus as Poppy feared, she felt unsteady on her feet, with a throbbing pain beginning behind her eyes. She wanted to lie down, and although it would be the polite thing to use the guest bedroom, the rumpled comfort of his bed was drawing her in. She sank down on the edge of the mattress, feeling it give way gently beneath her weight. She toed off her shoes and swung her legs up with a heartfelt sigh.

The light had nearly gone from the sky and all was silent, though unlike before, there was a sense of rest and of peace in the house. Minerva drifted toward sleep, watching the tree branches swaying in a gentle evening breeze, and thought drowsily that she could easily pass a day in the depths of this bed. She wondered if Severus was as comfortable in his chair. As if in response, she heard a muffled sneeze from downstairs.

"Bless you," she murmured as she snuggled into the blankets.

* * *

Minerva awoke with a start, straining her eyes in the darkness. She was momentarily dazed, uncertain of where she was, and then she remembered: She was in Severus' house in Spinner's End. She had no idea of the time, but it was much later than she'd planned to sleep because faint moonlight spilled across the bed.

Minerva lay still, listening for any sound then reached for her wand on the bedside table. Shining the light around the room, she located her shoes and slipped into them. She regained her feet slowly, still feeling achy and out of sorts. She would go downstairs, check on Severus and then take a quick look around the kitchen . She wasn't necessarily hungry, but knew she would have an easier night with something in her stomach; she had eaten nothing since their hurried tea hours before.

Minerva tiptoed carefully down the stairs, using her wand to light her way as she stepped along the edge of the treads, trying to minimize the creaks and pops under her feet. Reaching the doorway, she pushed against the heavy wood, holding her breath as the door opened. As her eyes adjusted, she could see Severus in profile, curled into the chair, head resting on an outstretched arm. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully, his breathing deep and slow.

Not wishing to wake him, Minerva stepped cautiously past and entered the kitchen. During her earlier search of the cabinets she didn't remember finding much of anything to eat, but surely there was something. Even a biscuit or a cracker would do until morning, when perhaps she could find a market somewhere in town.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden violent rustling against the pane, and Minerva startled, a noise of surprise escaping her. She quickly extinguished her wand light, backing away from the window as she did so. Why hadn't she thought to repair the curtains earlier? There was moonlight, but not enough for her to see anything clearly beyond the window and she felt exposed and vulnerable. There was someone out there, in the yard, and the adjoining houses were eerily dark and silent.

"Who's there?" she called, holding her wand up in a defensive position.

She was prepared to protect herself, but knew she would be as good as helpless against a Muggle burglar if he was intent on entering. The rustling changed to a steady tapping and still she could see nothing except her own frightened reflection in the glass.

"I'm right behind you, Minerva."

She sagged in relief at the sound of Severus's sleep-roughened voice. Although it was too dark to read his expression, his posture was alert and wary as he stepped in front of her.

"There's someone out there," she whispered. "Standing at the window."

He moved quickly to the back door. "No one should have been able to penetrate the wards," he said, and before she could shout a warning, he flung it open and stepped into the yard, making as much noise as possible, perhaps in hopes of scaring off the intruders. Minerva remained frozen in place, waiting for any indication he needed her help, but all was quiet.

After a few moments, he entered the kitchen again and crossed immediately to the table, bending over it to light a lamp. As the room brightened, Minerva was surprised to see a tawny, speckled owl perched comfortably on his arm.

"It was only Mercurius," he said, transferring the owl to a chair back. At the sound of her name, the owl hooted and ruffled her plumage in a bad-tempered manner.

"Yes, yes. My apologies," Severus said. "We weren't expecting you tonight."

"Mercurius?" she said. "Your post owl?"

Severus was running the flat of his hand along the owl's back and speaking softly to her. "Have you brought something?" Mercurius turned and nipped at his fingers gently. "Go on then," he told the owl, moving to the window and pushing open the casements. The owl took off, skimming effortlessly through the windows.

"Where is she going?" Minerva asked, wondering at the strange turn the evening had taken. She leaned out the window and watched the bird's wings ghosting against the sky as Mercurius ascended to the gnarled elm tree a few yards away.

"Mercurius has been well-trained to not deliver any post until I give her the word. She'll be back in a moment." As he spoke, the owl returned, dropping a large parcel neatly on the table before circling the room and coming to rest again on the chair back.

"It's from Poppy," he said, opening the envelope attached to the top of the package. He scanned the letter quickly, then sighed and tossed it to the tabletop. "She apologizes for packing us off so quickly, assures us that everything is under control at the castle and urges us to stay in the house until she arrives some time tomorrow."

Minerva suddenly felt weak and lightheaded, uncertain whether it was from the excitement or a lack of food. She retrieved the parchment and held it between trembling fingers as she read.

"Poppy also mentions," Severus said, after she had tucked the letter away, "that none of the standard healing potions are contraindicated in this illness. Still, it's not a good idea to take potions on an empty stomach." He moved to the cabinets, muttering to himself as he began to search the shelves.

"I believe already Poppy thought of that," Minerva said to him, as she opened the box and removed the top layer of packing material. Crammed into nearly every inch of space were tins and bottles and neatly-wrapped packages. "Tea," she said, setting a tall tin to the side. She continued stacking items on the table, wondering what sort of charm Poppy had used to make the box so capacious. "Marmalade and honey. Scones. Sausages and eggs, and, ugh," she said, pulling a face, "tins of kippers."

"You turn your nose up at kippers, yet every year you willingly eat pluck boiled in a sheep's stomach." Severus said, sinking into the chair across the table from her and propping his head tiredly into one hand.  
"I will never understand Scots."

She gave him a thin smile and reached deep into the box to withdraw the last of the items. "I nearly forgot the end-of-term feast was tonight," she said, looking at the neatly wrapped sandwiches and selection of pastries and tarts that Poppy had included. "Are you hungry?"

"Not particularly," he said.

"Well, I am," she said, unwrapping one of the sandwiches and pushing it across the table to Severus. "And I can't eat unless you do."

Mercurius clucked softly and stepped from the back of chair to his shoulder, gently nibbling a strand of his hair before clambering down his arm to the tabletop. Severus ran one finger down the back of the owl's head. "Help yourself," he said, tearing off a section of the sandwich and holding it out for her. "You've had a long flight."

Minerva watched the pair of them while she ate. She had seen Mercurius nearly every day as the owl winged her way in and out of the Great Hall, but had never studied her up close. She was quite a handsome bird with her fluffy spotted feathers and spectacle-like markings around her eyes. She seemed to be aware of the scrutiny, and as she gulped down a section of sandwich, cocked her head at Minerva. The owl's eyes were dark and intelligent and very much like her master's.

"Is that all you're going to eat?" she scolded, noticing that Severus was only picking at the corners of the sandwich. "No wonder you're so thin." He glanced up at her, but before he could reply, was overtaken with a sudden, harsh sneeze. Mercurius squawked at the sound and flapped her wings furiously.

"Bless," Minerva said, watching him fish in his pockets for a handkerchief. "You sound absolutely dreadful. How are you feeling?"

He folded his arms on the table and slumped over them. "I'd feel better if I knew what was going to happen tomorrow."

He was purposely avoiding the subject, Minerva knew, and refusing to look in her direction. She stared at the top of his head until he relented and met her eyes.

"Oh, very well," he said grumpily. "I feel as though I have the flu, and a particularly mild case at that. I cannot understand what all the fuss is about."

"I feel much the same," Minerva admitted. She was very content and beginning to feel drowsy. She covered a huge yawn with one hand. "But I'm sure Poppy has her reasons."

"I have no doubt."

Severus stood, offering one arm to Mercurius. "There's no need for a return trip," he told the owl as he carried her to the back door. "And the hunting should be excellent tonight. We'll leave a window ajar for you in case the weather turns."

He watched as the owl climbed swiftly into the sky. "I'm going to my workroom for a moment," he said over his shoulder to Minerva, stepping outside.

While he was gone, Minerva busied herself in the kitchen, and by the time she saw him crossing the yard towards the house, the table had been cleared and all the packages stored away. She heard the clink of glass against glass as Severus carried a small box to the counter and set it down carefully.

"I think a fever draught for both of us," he said, retrieving a small stoppered phial from the box and handing it her. He watched as she downed the potion and then took another for himself. He hesitated for a long moment before finally tossing it back, shuddering and coughing as he tried to swallow.

Minerva patted him on the back. "For a Potions master, you certainly have a difficult time getting them down, don't you?"

He ignored her and began lifting the other phials out, examining them briefly before replacing them into the box. "Pepperup is useless," he said. "And judging by the way you tucked into that sandwich, I don't think you're in need of anything to settle your stomach." He withdrew another stoppered phial and then looked over at her. "An analgesic?"

"I do have a bit of a headache," she said, accepting the small glass container and drinking the bitter liquid quickly.

Next to her, Severus did the same and then piled their empty phials in the sink before closing the flaps of the box. "I'm going back to bed," he said, moving to the table to extinguish the lamp, lighting his wand as he did so.

Minerva nodded. "That's a fine idea," she said, yawning again.

As they passed through the kitchen, she reached out a hand to steady Severus as he stumbled and caught himself against the door frame. "I'd forgotten just how hard those potions tend to hit you," she said, linking her arm with his and guiding him through to the sitting room.

He made a movement towards his chair and Minerva tightened her grasp on him. "No, Severus," she said. "You're sleeping in your own bed tonight, no arguments. I'll take the guest room and we'll figure something out when Poppy arrives tomorrow."

He was already much too sleepy to make much of a protest and Minerva followed behind as he ascended the staircase slowly, his feet dragging on each step.

"Shoes off," she told him when they reached his bedroom, and he removed them without a sound, flopping back heavily against the pillows.

Minerva pulled the thick duvet up and tucked it around him. "I'll see you in the morning," she said, resting a hand against his cheek. He nodded, burrowing his head deeply into the pillows. She turned to leave, and before she had even made it to the hall, she heard him snoring gently.

"Sleep well, Severus," she whispered to him.


	4. Chapter 4

Minerva had been awake for hours and was starting to worry about Severus. She showered and changed without being overly careful about keeping quiet and when that hadn't seemed to rouse him, she went downstairs and prepared breakfast, which she ate alone.

Now she stood in the doorway of his room, weighing her options. He was lying in the same position as the last few times she had checked on him: flat on his back with only the top of his head and one foot visible beneath the tangle of duvet and blankets. He was so still that Minerva had to look closely to ensure that he was still breathing. Had the potions been too sedating?

Minerva realized she didn't really know his habits. He didn't seem a morning person, so perhaps he always slept this late during the holidays. She frowned, wishing she knew of some way to wake him without startling him.

"Severus?" she said quietly, watching for any response. She cleared her throat and tried again, but her throat was raw and sore and anything above a whisper was painful. "Severus, are you awake?"

The effort of speech caused her to start coughing, and with this, his head shot up from the pillow, his hair tangled and falling across his face.

"What is it?" he asked, struggling to raise himself on his elbows. "Do you need help? What?"

"It's nothing," she said, going to his bed and sitting down gingerly. "I'm sorry. I was just looking in on you."

He collapsed back to the bed with a sigh.

"How are you feeling this morning?"

He considered her question for a moment. "I am aching from head to toe," he said, not in a self-pitying manner, but as a statement of fact.

Minerva placed a hand on his forehead, expecting him to turn his head or protest in some way and was surprised when he lay quietly looking up at her. She moved her palm to his cheek and then to the side of his neck. He was warm to the touch everywhere she rested her hand. With a pang of guilt, she wished suddenly that she had let him rest.

"I'm not nearly as practiced as you," she said finally. "But I believe you're in need of another fever draught. Shall I bring one to you, along with a little breakfast?"

"I don't think I can eat anything today," he said, rolling to his side and pulling the blankets up to his chin.

She knew his appetite was an elusive thing under the best of circumstances, and wasn't sure how insistent she should be about the matter.

"A cup of tea might help," she offered. "And a biscuit? I'm sure I saw a tin of them in the package Poppy sent."

"I won't have you waiting on me, Minerva. You're also ill, and a guest here besides."

"I'm hardly a guest," she said. "I would say we're both here against our will, thanks to Poppy."

"Regardless," he said, setting his chin stubbornly, "I believe I'm capable of looking after myself." He made an attempt at sitting up, but as Minerva watched in concern, his face lost color and he fell heavily back to the pillows.

"Not another word," she said. "I'm going to bring up a pot of tea and a few potions for the both of us."

"There's no need for you to go downstairs," he said, pulling his wand out from under his pillow.

"Do you think that's wise in your condition?" she asked, taking in his pale, drawn face. She wouldn't trust herself to do anything outside of a basic spell this morning, and he seemed in even worse shape than she.

He gave her a withering glance. "I've never known a time when I was so incapacitated that I couldn't _Accio _something from another room." He concentrated visibly, the tip of his wand wavering slightly, when there was a sudden shattering of glass and a loud hoot from downstairs.

"That didn't sound good." Minerva said.

"No, it didn't," he said wearily, dropping his wand and letting his arm fall across his eyes. "Perhaps my focus is a bit off today."

She patted his shoulder in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. "I'll go see what I can salvage."

Mercurius blinked at her in a put-out sort of way when she reached the sitting room. The wreckage of the box was strewn across the kitchen and she knelt to clear broken glass and spilled potion. When she finished, Minerva set the box upright. There were a few phials that escaped harm, but they were unlabeled; she'd have to bring the whole lot with her so he could sort them out.

Moving farther into the kitchen, Minerva prepared a tray with a pot of strong, hot tea and a few of the scones that were left from her own breakfast. She thought of what she would be doing right now were the circumstances different; the frenetic activity and general mayhem of the final day, the endless owls and questions, the students making their farewells. Instead, it was calm and she could hear a steady rain pattering against the glass as she worked. The windows were smeared with droplets, blurring the view of the adjoining houses. There was a sense of being cut off from the rest of the world that, to her surprise, wasn't altogether unwelcome. The little house felt almost cozy.

* * *

The day dragged on, moment by moment, and now they were both sitting quietly, Minerva on the couch, Severus in his chair, books open on their laps. They were reading, or making the attempt, but neither could concentrate. Severus kept glancing towards the front door, his scowl deepening as the minutes passed. Minerva kept an uneasy watch over him. His temper had been erratic as the day progressed and now his impatience and irritability were nearly palpable.

Minerva felt the tension crawling along her skin, and as she was opening her mouth to say something, certain she couldn't stand it for another second, she sensed something happening outside. It wasn't exactly a sound, because almost all outside noise was deadened by the bookcases, but the atmosphere had altered nearby, somewhere within the wards that surrounded the house. Severus felt it, too, and before Minerva could even react, he was on his feet, wrenching open the door to reveal Poppy standing just outside, already soaked.

"Where have you been?" he snapped, as Poppy approached the house. "We've waited all day with no word."

"Will you let me get both feet inside the door first?" Poppy's shoes squelched against the floorboards as she stepped across the threshold. She pushed back the hood of her traveling cloak, swiftly drying the rain pooling on the floor..

"We should have been kept informed of what was happening today."

I can sum it up for you, if you like," she said, giving him a level stare. "I've been on my feet for ten hours straight, performing diagnostic spells and dispensing potions until it feels like my arms are going to drop off."

"Sit down, then," Minerva said, patting the couch cushion next to where she was sitting.

"I will in a moment," Poppy said, withdrawing her wand, the movement eliciting a wince as she pointed it in their direction. "But first..."

"You're going to examine us _now_?" Severus interrupted, his tone dripping with scorn and impatience. "You couldn't have done this yesterday before you sent us away?"

"Actually, no," she said. "I wasn't shown the proper diagnostic spell until this morning. Now, hold still."

She traced a pattern over Minerva first and then moved to Severus, frowning as she studied the readings. After a moment, Poppy lowered her wand and sighed.

"Unfortunately, according to the scan, my suspicions were correct."

"We have pertussis?" Minerva asked. "You're absolutely certain?"

"I've performed the same diagnostic spell over and over today," Poppy said with a weary sigh. "I could diagnose pertussis in my sleep. As a matter of fact, towards the end of the afternoon, I think I was doing exactly that."

"I'm not trying to doubt your professional opinion," Minerva said. "But I honestly don't feel all that ill."

"I'm not surprised, really," Poppy said, flicking her wand to review the readings again. "You appear to have a very mild case. Now you, on the other hand," she said, turning to Severus and using the tip of her wand to indicate a glowing number floating in the air, "Your white count is very high."

He stared at the number without comprehension. "And am I somehow supposed to understand what you're babbling about?"

"It means," Poppy said, tucking her wand away, "that you're as ill as anyone I've encountered today. It's no wonder your Slytherins were the hardest hit of everyone."

The last she said as an aside, but he picked up on it instantly, the frown on his face deepening.

"How many?"

"Twenty-six students altogether."

"Poppy," he said, an edge to his voice. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Twelve from Slytherin." she said reluctantly.

He began to move about the room restlessly, pausing at the perch where Mercurius was sleeping with her head under her wing to run his finger down her back.

"I know that look on your face," Poppy said with a hint of warning in her voice. "And even if you were able to travel to St. Mungo's, you'd never be allowed in...or out, for that matter."

He walked to the row of pegs where his cloak was hanging and Poppy went to stand between him and the door.

"Severus, listen to me, please," she said, placing a hand on his arm. "There's nothing you can do. Their parents or guardians have already been notified. I saw every student settled into the wards at St. Mungo's before I left them and I'll be receiving twice-daily updates until everyone is discharged. They're receiving excellent care and will make a full recovery, which is more than I can say for you if you insist on pushing yourself beyond your endurance."

"And what about you, Poppy?" Minerva asked, who had been watching their exchange with a combination of amusement and trepidation.

"Me? I am thoroughly knackered," Poppy said with feeling. "But somehow I managed to avoid being infected."

"Well, that's wonderful. But if you're not ill, you shouldn't be here with us," Minerva said.

"I'm afraid we have no choice. I had to assure the team from St. Mungo's that I would be on site to..."

Poppy coughed lightly, knowing how well the next statement would go down.

"...to supervise your care."

She raised an eyebrow at Severus, who was staring at her incredulously. "I know you can manage on your own," she said to him. "That was never in question. But it's the only way they will allow you to stay somewhere other than St. Mungo's."

"In the meantime," Severus said, resuming his circuit of the room, "we're stuck together in this house for who knows how long."

"You're certainly not _stuck_ here," Poppy said, trying to smooth his ruffled feathers. "When the weather is fine and you're feeling up to it, there's no reason you can't go outside. You're just to limit your contact with others until you've taken the potion for a full week."

At their simultaneous looks of confusion, Poppy shook her head.

"I'm so tired, I nearly forgot," she admitted. "The Healers brought with them a supply of antimicrobial potion that has proven to be effective against pertussis." She lifted her bag from the floor and withdrew a small wooden box.

"We're each to take three doses daily for a week, except..." She lifted the lid on the box and counted the small phials under her breath. "I was afraid of that," she said, looking up. "The Healers gave me what was left of the supply, but it's not going to be nearly enough for the three of us."

She slid the box onto a nearby shelf and tapped her chin thoughtfully. "There's enough potion there for a few days, at least. I suppose I can nip out to St. Mungo's tomorrow and see about getting more, but with twenty-six students to treat, I'm not sure if they can spare any."

Severus approached her, holding out his hand. "Give me one of the phials," he said.

She retrieved one of the small glass containers from the box and passed it to him. He held it to the light, then removed the stopper and sniffed at the liquid before finally taking a tentative swallow.

"My god," he said, gasping and suppressing a shudder. "That is absolutely vile."

He took a deep breath and after a moment's consideration, downed the rest of the potion. He stood motionless, eyes closed tightly, the back of his hand pressed to his mouth.

"Sit down, Severus," Poppy told him sharply. "You look as though you're going to be sick."

He waved her off and finally opened his eyes. "It contains the same base elements as Pepperup," he said. "I don't suppose you have a written ingredient list anywhere?"

"As a matter of fact," Poppy said, rummaging in her bag again, "I did have one of the Healers copy down the instructions for me, just in case there were any unforeseen reactions." She paused with the parchment between her fingers. "Wait a moment. Why are you asking? They assured me it's a fairly basic potion to brew, but you're in no condition to..."

"Oh, just give it to me, will you?" he said, snatching the parchment from her hand. He read silently for a moment and then turned on his heel and stalked into the kitchen.

"Wrap up well if you're going outside," she called after him. "It's turned chilly."

The only response was the back door slamming as Severus exited the house. Minerva went to the window in the back of the house, watching him make his way through the muddy yard. Poppy came to stand next to her and they stood silently, shoulder to shoulder, until he disappeared inside his work room.

"Should I go after him?" Minerva asked.

"Give him some time," Poppy said. "This is all very hard for a person who feels he needs to be in control of every situation." She turned and leaned wearily against the counter.

"Is he really intending to brew?" Minerva asked, taking Poppy by the arm and leading her to a kitchen chair. "He couldn't even _Accio_ a box from one room to the next this morning."

"He'll be fine," Poppy said, sinking into the seat. "He's never more peaceful than when he has some horrid potion simmering away, and right now he needs to stay busy so he won't brood."

"I'll admit I've been worried about him," Minerva said, sitting across from Poppy and straightening her robes over her knees. "If he hasn't been sound asleep, then he's been pacing the house like a caged animal." She shook her head at the memory. "And I haven't been able to get him to eat anything at all today. He was quite stroppy about it."

"He only thinks to eat when he's distracted by something else," Poppy said, her smile communicating her affection for him. "I'll take him a tray a bit later."

Minerva continued looking toward the window, her mind clearly elsewhere.

"While Severus is out of the house," she finally said, turning back to Poppy, "we really should discuss sleeping arrangements. He was quite insistent yesterday that he would be fine in the sitting room while we took the bedrooms."

"Yes, that sounds very much like him," Poppy said.

"He's such a private person," Minerva said. "It seems a terrible imposition somehow, being in his house like this."

"I have no doubt it is an imposition," Poppy agreed, "But despite how he's acting now, he really is quite ill. In a few days he'll be glad to have someone around. And between his illness and the after-effects of the potions he'll require, I don't think it will take much convincing on our part for him to sleep in his own bed."

"So that's settled then," Minerva said. "Severus can stay in his room and you and I will share the other bedroom."

"No, thank you, " Poppy said, covering a yawn with her hand. "You talk in your sleep and Severus snores. I'd prefer to keep a floor between myself and the two of you. The sitting room will be fine."

"Are you quite sure?" Minerva asked.

Poppy nodded, unable to speak momentarily while in the midst of another jaw-cracking yawn.

"You look utterly exhausted."

"Mmm," Poppy agreed. "Perhaps I will lie down for a bit. It's been a long day and if the examination holds true, it could be a very long night. For all of us."

"Poor Severus," Minerva said. "He has no business being out there in a drafty old shed, trying to brew."

"I wouldn't fret too much. It's good for him," Poppy said soothingly. "And while I'm thinking about it," she said, arranging her features into an expression of nonchalance, "When the shipment of potion arrives from St. Mungo's in the next few days, remind me to act surprised, will you?"


	5. Chapter 5

Four days.

Four days and he'd nearly reached the limit of his patience; trapped in his own house, the small space made claustrophobic by the presence of two meddlesome old witches. The only view from the windows was a constant drizzling rain, turning the landscape shades of murky grey and brown and preventing him from leaving. He had done everything possible to distract himself, to find a quiet, private corner, but there was nowhere he could escape.

He tried to lose himself in reading, but couldn't concentrate, knowing someone was watching him at all times. When he glanced up, their attention was nonchalantly directed elsewhere, but he knew his every move was being scrutinized. It took all of his self-control not to shout at them.

He couldn't retreat to his workroom because when he did, Poppy made flimsy excuses to check on him every fifteen minutes. Each time the door opened it startled him and the resulting temperature and humidity changes were damaging the potions ingredients stored there. As tempting as it was to ward her out of his workroom altogether, he lacked the energy to strengthen the spell and had no wish to face the volley of concerned questions sure to follow.

He even lied about needing sleep in order to escape to his bedroom as often as possible. But after a short time, either Poppy or Minerva would peek in and inquire about his physical or emotional state or offer tea or just stand there looking at him with wide, concerned eyes until he was ready to climb the walls.

He hated it. Hated being trapped in the house when twelve of his Slytherins were in St. Mungo's. Hated feeling ill and vulnerable and sapped of all strength.

Until a few days ago, he thought Poppy had somehow misdiagnosed him and all he had was a cold that would run its course in a week. But a week had passed and rather than feeling better, his condition quickly deteriorated. The cough was nothing more than an annoyance for a few days but now came in fits that swept over him without warning, ten or twenty times a day, leaving him breathless and dizzy, head pounding and sides aching.

Severus turned to his side in bed. He hated this, too. Trying to lie perfectly still, afraid to make any noise at all, knowing that it would bring Poppy immediately to his room. Then he'd have to use his limited strength and breath to tell her he was fine and try to convince her to leave. He hated that she never listened to him, hated the spell she used to quiet the cough, hated the excruciating sense that he was being pulled inside out.

With a helpless groan, Severus forced himself into an upright position, bracing himself against the headboard as another paroxysm began. He tried to cough quietly, but it quickly became overpowering, racking his body, straining every muscle.

The coughing grew in intensity, not even allowing him to catch a breath in between. He heard a dull pop and felt a sudden, excruciating pain in his right side. He pressed the flat of his hand to the spot, able to manage only a sharp hiss of pain. He couldn't stop coughing and now the pain was knifing into his side with each spasm. He felt sweat breaking out on his forehead, and swiped at his eyes with his free hand, his vision beginning to waver and dim.

"Severus?"

He heard the soft inquiry and turned his head toward the voice but couldn't respond. For the first time in what had turned out to be a very long night, he was relieved to see Poppy's concerned face peering back at him. Poppy's wand was already in her hand as she advanced toward his bed, and Severus closed his eyes tightly, knowing it was necessary but not wanting to anticipate the moment she would cast the dreaded spell. She sat gently on the edge of the bed and as the surface shifted beneath her weight, he groaned and clutched more tightly at his chest.

"Please, Poppy," he managed to gasp out, his voice raspy and thin from the effects of the cough. "Don't."

"The cough remedy we tried this morning was the strongest formula St. Mungo's stocks and it did nothing for you."

He shook his head, using both hands now to support his injured ribs as the coughing continued.

"You're wearing yourself out," she said, and he felt the tip of her wand settle against his upper back. "Hold tight. It will be over in a moment."

Severus arched backward as she ran the tip of her wand down the length of his upper body, groaning from the sensation that vital organs were being twisted and stretched and rearranged. Heat spread outward where her wand touched, turning quickly to a burning coldness, and then to a buzzing, trembling sensation that he knew from experience would take a few minutes to pass. He collapsed forward as she lifted her wand.

He couldn't imagine a more undignified position: one hand pressed to his side, head lolling between his upraised knees, mouth hanging open while he tried to catch his breath, but the cough was gone, blessedly gone. Poppy sat quietly next to him. The touch of her hand circling gently on his back was irritating, but he had no strength remaining to protest. He drew a deep breath and then gasped, the searing ache stabbing suddenly into his side with the movement. His pressed his fingers deeply into the area, hoping to somehow massage the discomfort away.

"Severus," she asked, alarm sharpening her tone. "What is it? Are you in pain?"

He lowered himself gingerly back to the pillows, an involuntary moan escaping him as his sore ribs were jostled. He had strained something, that was all. If he pretended to fall asleep, perhaps Poppy would leave and he could take an analgesic potion without her knowledge. He swallowed convulsively at the thought, his stomach still churning from the violence of the coughing fit. Either way, he wanted to be alone.

He let his eyes drift shut in what he hoped was a believable manner, trying to arrange his features into an expression of calm and repose. How long was she going to sit there staring at him?

"You're not fooling me, you know, " she said after a moment. "You've never fallen asleep that quickly in your life."

With that, Severus scowled at her, although the menacing effect was lessened somewhat when he winced from another sharp throb of pain. He guarded his chest as he saw Poppy raise her wand again.

"Calm down," she said. "I only want to check something."

She passed her wand over the area that was most painful but he felt none of the disconcerting effects of a healing spell, only the slight warmth of a diagnostic charm.

"Hmm," she said, tucking her wand into a pocket of her dressing gown.

"I know that 'hmm,'" he said. "And it's never good news."

"Will you lift your top for me?"

Severus felt himself flush at her request, even though he knew there was no reason to be embarrassed, not in front of her. Poppy's fingers were warm and gentle as she palpated the tender area along his ribs, never taking her eyes from his face. She slipped one hand under his back and pressed down quickly in the center of his chest. The pain in his side was immediate and sharp .

"You've broken a rib, I'm afraid," she said pulling his top back down and rearranging the blanket. "It's not uncommon with a severe cough like yours."

She withdrew her wand for what he hoped was the last time, touching it briefly to his chest. He dug his fingers into the bedding in frustration. It didn't hurt to have a fracture healed, but the spell was always accompanied by a crawling, itching sensation as the bone mended.

"It's going to be touchy for a bit," she said, standing slowly. "You'll have to lie still for an hour or so, but that shouldn't be a problem."

"Why does it feel so tight?" he asked, his fingers slowly exploring the area over the healed fracture.

"It's just a splinting spell," she explained. "To support your injured rib in case you begin coughing again. It should wear off in about twenty-four hours, but I can adjust it now if it's uncomfortable. You need to be able to take a deep breath."

He shook his head, blinked and tried to focus his eyes, but Poppy's face kept swimming in and out of his line of vision. Was it the absence of pain making him so drowsy? Or perhaps she had sneaked in a calming spell ? He brought his attention back to Poppy with an effort as she continued speaking.

"Try not to shift around too much if you can help it, and use a pillow to support the area if you do need to cough."

"Surprisingly enough," he said, his voice slurring slightly. "I didn't need you to explain that to me."

She laughed. "There's a good lad," she said. "Still not too sleepy to give it straight back, are you?"

Severus made a noncommittal noise. Standing next to his bed, Poppy looked as placid and unruffled as she had during her last two visits to his room. Even though she'd made at least as many trips to Minerva's room, she appeared tireless. Even in her dressing gown, her hair unbound around her shoulders, she radiated authority and robust good health and cheer. It was bloody infuriating.

"Try and rest," she said softly as she left.

_Rest_. The very word made a bitter smile appear on his face. How long had it been since he'd enjoyed a refreshing sleep? The uncomfortable spell Poppy used kept the cough suppressed for two or three hours, but any rest he managed in between was fragmented and haunted with vivid and frightening dreams. He preferred to keep his wits about him.

Still, his eyelids were heavy and he could feel sleep stealing over him irresistibly, by degrees. He listened idly to the quiet murmuring coming through the door. It was Poppy and Minerva, almost certainly discussing his condition, and the rise and fall of their voices was soothing. He let his head fall to the side, burrowing his face into the pillow.

A sharp tapping on the bedroom window made Severus start up in alarm. He looked around in confusion, fumbling for his wand, but as his head cleared, he realized it must be Mercurius.

He forced his eyes open and pushed himself up, breathing slowly and deliberately while the dizziness passed. He could still hear voices outside his door and he moved as silently as possible to the end of the bed. He reached out one arm to push open the window and leaned over the sill into the still and chilly night. The only noise was Mercurius beating her wings in an ill-natured manner when she spotted him. She was an intelligent bird, and discreet, but not terribly patient.

"I'm sorry, pet," he whispered to her. "Are you still up for a journey tonight?" She gave his fingers an affectionate and affirmative nip. "You'll have time for a brief hunt beforehand, but be ready."

He waited until the hall outside his room was silent before making his move. If he timed it correctly, he could be seated at his desk before Poppy made it to the sitting room, where his tread on the floorboards would surely give him away.

He crossed to his writing desk in three quick strides, plucked his favorite jumper from the back of the chair and pulled it over his head before settling at his desk with a quill and a stack of parchment. He shivered as he lit the lamp and lowered the flame so that only the surface of his desk was illuminated. As long as Minerva and Poppy went straight to bed, he wouldn't be discovered. He would have more than enough time to finish the letters and send Mercurius on her way to St. Mungo's.

With a loud screech, the owl swooped from her perch on the window ledge, intent on her unsuspecting prey skittering along the ground. The noise made Severus jump just as he was dipping the quill into the inkwell and with a sick sense of inevitability, he watched the heavy pewter stand slip off the edge of the desk. He was still sleepy, his reflexes slow and clumsy, and his instinctual grab for the stand only served to send a stack of books tumbling to the floor, where they landed with a resounding thud.

The entire house seemed to hold its breath for a minute.

Severus sat with his head in his hands. He could already hear Poppy's feet pounding up the steps and knew there wouldn't be enough time to extinguish the lamp and hop back in bed. He would have to face her ire.

Poppy threw back the door and hurtled into the room, her frightened expression quickly changing to outrage when she spotted him sitting at his desk.

"You scared the life out of me!" she scolded. "I thought you'd fallen."

He bent to retrieve the inkstand and quill. "There's nothing wrong with me," he said curtly, refusing to look at her. A shadow fell across his desktop and he glanced up to see Poppy, hands planted indignantly on her hips, her mouth a grim line as she studied the scattered parchments.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, anger making her voice shake. "If you wish to prolong your illness, then go right ahead, but I refuse to perform a complicated spell every two hours so you can sit up and work and wear yourself out."

"No one asked you to."

"'Asked' me?" she spluttered. "Of course no one _asked_ me! As matron, you and Minerva are my responsibility."

"I have responsibilities as well," he said, cleaning the quill on a cloth, "but unlike you, I haven't had a moment alone to see to them."

"May I remind you that the school term has ended and your Slytherins have been released to the care of their parents?"

"I am still their Head of House and for some of them..."

He trailed off, finding himself unable to explain. Summer holiday or not, regardless of whether he was ill or exhausted, his Slytherins relied on him. Many had concerned, loving parents, but others were from broken homes or lived with guardians who were indifferent at best. It was no exaggeration to say he was the sole source of stability in their young lives and they expected him to be there.

Poppy remained silent, and as he glanced up at her, her face softened and she nodded. Somehow she understood. When she spoke again, her voice was softer.

"The worst cases of pertussis can drag on for months. A lot of good you'll be doing your Slytherins if you're unable to assume your duties come term time."

"I'll be fine."

She sighed and held her hands up, fingertips together, in an almost prayerful position. "Would you please," she said, emphasizing each word carefully, "for once in your stubborn life, _listen_ to me? Put your things away and try to get some rest. "

"I can't rest," he said, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. "I have trouble falling asleep, and when I do..."

He looked up and in that moment realized he had let his composure slip. He despised the look of pity that flickered across Poppy's face. Before he could respond, she quickly crouched and began gathering the books still scattered on the floor.

"I didn't know, Severus," she said quietly, stacking the books and pushing them to one side. "I'm sorry. Would Dreamless Sleep help?"

How could he tell her that after using Dreamless Sleep for years, in a vain attempt to hold the pieces of his shattered psyche together, it was nearly ineffective for him now?

"It doesn't work on me."

"Then how can I help you?"

"Stop fretting," he said, in a tone that he hoped would put the matter to rest. He bent back to his letter and felt her hand settle on the back of his head.

"I don't think that's possible."

"Leave me alone, then."

"I don't think that's possible, either."

He stiffened, feeling the tenuous grasp he held on his temper beginning to slip. He threw his quill to the desktop and whirled on her. "Stop treating me like a child."

Poppy was calm in the face of his anger.

"I'm not," she insisted. "I'm treating you as I would any colleague who was ill and refusing to listen to reason."

He ran his hands distractedly through his hair, unable to keep one knee from jittering up and down as his sense of agitation grew.

"I can't stand it any longer, Poppy," he said. "The constant inquiries into my health and the concerned clucking. Despite what you seem to think, I can take care of myself. I always have."

"I'm aware of that, Severus," Poppy said. "What would you like me to do?"

"I want you to leave me in peace," he said. "If I had the strength, I'd throw the both of you out of this house tonight."

The words were out before he could stop himself, and he regretted them immediately.

"We'll leave any time you ask," she said quietly.

He sat back in his chair and stared at her, arms crossed. "And where would you go?"

"Where we should have gone in the first place," Poppy said. "St. Mungo's."

The minutes passed in silence and she stood serenely in place, a gentle smile creasing her face as she watched him. He had never known anyone so guileless. He should call her bluff, order them both out. Anything to crack that placid facade and extinguish the compassion he saw in her eyes. Didn't she know who he was, what he had done? Why did she insist on treating him as someone worthy of respect and affection and care?

Severus was the first to break eye contact. He waited for Poppy to speak, but her attention was diverted as the harsh sound of Minerva coughing reached them through the open door.

"I need to check on her," she said, turning to leave. She stopped in the doorway and faced him. "We'll do as you wish, Severus, but I don't think Minerva is well enough to travel at the moment. Can you give us a few days?"

The door clicked shut behind her before he had a chance to reply.

He slumped in his chair, pushing the parchments to one side and resting his head wearily on the desk. He already knew he wasn't going to ask them to leave. It may drive him absolutely mad before it ended, but like it or not, they were in this together.


	6. Chapter 6

"He should have been back by now," Poppy said, setting aside her book and rising to open the front door. She peered up and down the narrow, littered street, hoping to see him walking toward her, but the steady downpour was obscuring everything. A gust of wind rattled the door in its frame and she shivered and closed it tightly behind her.

"I thought he would be back the moment it started raining," Minerva said, glancing up briefly from her needlework.

Poppy paced the room restlessly, stopping only to watch Minerva's progress on a intricately embroidered scene of a manor house set against rolling green fields.

"You're still working on that?" Poppy asked in exasperation. "It would go much faster if you used your wand."

"Mm-hm," Minerva agreed, as she worked grey thread in a satin stitch along the edge of a watchtower. "And you could make your lemon shortbread more quickly using _your_ wand."

"Puttering in the kitchen relaxes me."

Minerva glanced at Poppy over her spectacles, eyebrows raised, expression bland.

"Point taken."

Poppy sank into her seat again, drumming her fingers nervously on the arm of the chair for a moment before she leaped to her feet again.

"Perhaps Severus is holed up somewhere waiting for the weather to clear," Minerva suggested. "Don't fret so. He can take care of himself."

"Yes, he can," Poppy said. "But he shouldn't have to right now."

"Leave him be," Minerva said, neatly cutting a thread. "He seemed much more like himself this morning. Not cheerful, exactly, but not as on edge as he has been."

"That's only because I let him shout at me the other night," Poppy said with a wry smile. "He'd been on his best behavior for days, bless him."

"A walk will do him good, then."

"A walk, yes," Poppy agreed. "A thorough drenching, on the other hand..."

Poppy shrugged and left the rest of her thought unspoken. She couldn't stop herself from opening the door and looking out again. The rain still poured down in sheets, turning the makeshift sidewalk into a rushing, muddy torrent. She closed the door and turned toward the coat rack.

Minerva watched quietly as Poppy took down her heavy wool cardigan and buttoned it tightly to her throat.

"You're going after him?" she asked, setting her needlework frame aside. "How do you know where he's gone?"

"I don't know for certain," Poppy said, pulling on her traveling cloak. "But I have a very good idea."

Minerva joined her at the door, her expression grim as she surveyed the weather. "Shall I go with you?"

"Best to stay here, I think," Poppy said. "You have no business out in this mess while you're still recovering and in a weakened state. You could end up catching cold." She tucked her wand into an inside pocket of her cloak. "Or worse."

"Blast it, Poppy," Minerva said. "Now you have me worried. Severus shouldn't be out in this horrid weather, either. Do you think he's...?"

"I'll take care of him," Poppy said calmly.

* * *

Approaching the gated churchyard of St. Clementine, Poppy could just make out a figure slumped on a concrete bench. The weather was no better here with the rain blowing nearly horizontal, stinging her skin and blurring her vision.

"Oh, Severus," she said. "How did I know I'd find you here?"

As she neared, Poppy saw that rather than sitting in a pose of rest, his hands gripped the edge of the bench tightly. She hurried over and knelt in front of him. The damp soaked through her long skirt, but she took little notice of her own discomfort.

Severus sat huddled miserably, rain dripping from the ends of his sodden hair and streaming down his face and neck. He shivered continually, his light clothing not enough protection against the biting wind that whipped through the yard.

She laid a hand gently on his cheek. No fever. He was just exhausted and miserable and chilled straight through. He opened his eyes, looking at her with no recognition. She took his cold hands in hers, rubbing them briskly. He stared at their entwined hands for a moment and then glanced up at her again.

"P..Poppy," he said, teeth clenched against the hard shudders racking him.

"Yes, child, it's me." she said. He always bristled when she let that word slip, but many times she couldn't help herself. Where others saw an intimidating and powerful wizard, she still saw a nervous, neglected eleven-year-old.

He slumped, letting his head drop forward. "I'm so cold," he mumbled.

Poppy stood and whipped off her cloak. It was much too small for him but would provide some warmth until she could get him back to the house.

"Why didn't you go into the church when it started raining?" she asked, draping it over him.

"Evensong," he said, grasping at the edges of the cloak and pulling them tight. "The church was full and...and I didn't know if I should be around others."

"Then you should have come back straightaway," Poppy said.

"I tried to make it back," he said, sounding breathless. "But every time I'd try..."

His words were cut short as he began to cough; a deep, hacking, relentless cough that shook his thin frame.

Poppy winced at the sound, feeling her own chest constrict in sympathy. She hated feeling so helpless, wishing she had more to offer than a phial of cough medicine, though she was grateful she thought to bring a dose along.

He leaned forward over his knees, the fit passing almost as quickly as it came. The effort it cost him was obvious as he lifted his head, struggling to catch his breath, his face mottled.

"I couldn't…" he gasped out, "Make it back...on my own."

"Don't try to speak," Poppy said gently. "We need to get you back home and into some dry clothing. Can you stand?"

"I think so." He tried to rise, but fell back heavily to the bench with a frustrated groan.

"Don't worry, Severus," she said, reaching out for him. "Lean on me and I'll help you."

He bore down hard on her arms as he stood, nearly upsetting her as he slowly straightened. When he wavered on his feet, Poppy put her arms around him to steady him.

She barely came up to his chest, but he leaned against her for support, dropping his head to her shoulder. Without thought, she smoothed the damp hair from his face. His arms hung limply at his sides and he trembled and shuddered against her. She swallowed hard against a sudden lump in her throat.

"I'm so tired, Poppy," he said in a weak voice. "Will I ever feel better?"

"You will," she said. "Of course you will. I'll do everything I can to make you more comfortable."

She stepped back so he was forced to raise his head and meet her eyes.

"But that means you must do your part. You need to start taking better care of yourself. You must rest and not exert yourself. No more trips here until you're much stronger. Lily would understand."

He turned his head from her, his face coloring, whether from anger or embarrassment, Poppy couldn't tell.

"You're going to eat when I ask you to and sleep when I ask you to, and get your strength back. It may take some time, but you will start feeling better, I promise."

He nodded, swiping at his face with an already-damp sleeve. Poppy pulled a handkerchief from her cardigan pocket and watched as he scrubbed at his eyes and nose.

"Take my arm," she said when he had composed himself. "We're going to side-along back to the house. Minerva is waiting for us, and I baked a fresh batch of shortbread just this afternoon."

He offered no resistance and meekly put his arm through hers.

"That's it. We'll get you dried off and warmed up and you'll be feeling like yourself in no time."

She kept up a constant, cheerful patter even as they turned in unison and church grounds dissolved from their vision.

* * *

The effort of a side-along cost Severus his remaining strength and he went to one knee in the muddy patch of ground where they landed. Poppy nearly went down with him but managed to grab him firmly around the shoulders, planting her feet to steady herself.

"It's not much farther, Severus," she said encouragingly, trying to coax him to his feet. "We're almost there."

"Give me a moment," he said, and then bent forward with the force of another harsh coughing fit. Poppy stood over him protectively, one hand resting on the back of his neck.

Minerva rushed from the house, her eyes wide. "Oh, my goodness, what a pair you are! Absolutely covered with mud."

She grasped Severus firmly under one arm, Poppy took the other and together they hauled him to his feet.

"Inside where it's warm," Minerva said briskly, guiding them towards the front door. "You look like drowned rats, the both of you."

Severus collapsed into a chair when they reached the sitting room, unable to control the shudders coursing through his body.

Poppy was shivering nearly as hard. Minerva fixed her with a stern look. "Upstairs and change clothes."

"I want to see to Severus first," Poppy said, deftly drying his clothing and hair and removing the worst of the caked mud.

"Leave me alone," he mumbled, trying to brush off her attention. "I'm fine." He tried to rise from the chair but all it took was a gentle touch on his shoulder and he fell back again.

"What did we just discuss?" Poppy asked, helping him prop his feet up and covering him with a blanket. "You are most certainly not fine. As a matter of fact, you'll be fortunate if you don't develop pneumonia when all is said and done."

He watched with dull eyes as Poppy fluffed a pillow and tucked it behind him. "Bring some tea, will you?" she said to Minerva who was standing nearby.

"I will bring you _both_ some tea," Minerva said, giving Poppy a none-too-gentle push toward the stairs. "While you change into some dry clothing. Severus isn't the only one who could come down with pneumonia, you know."

A few minutes later, Poppy entered the kitchen, toweling off her hair, just as Minerva was pouring out three steaming cup of tea.

"Where was he?" Minerva asked in a low tone, indicating Severus with a tilt of her head.

"It was as I thought," Poppy said, accepting the cup from Minerva. "He was visiting an old friend."

"Outside? In the rain?" And then she fell silent, recognition dawning slowly on her face.

Poppy took a grateful swallow of the strong tea, sighing as she felt the warmth course through her.

"He visits at least once a week," she said. "Lights a candle for her. He got caught out by the weather this time and didn't want to enter the church when it was full."

"Oh, dear." Minerva stood silently for a moment, looking towards the sitting room. When she turned back to Poppy her face looked stricken. "And does he know...?"

"He must realize that the time is near," Poppy said quietly. "But I asked Albus to put off notifying him for a few weeks, until he's stronger."

"I hope," Minerva began and the she trailed off, crossing her arms tightly as if to ward off a chill. "I hope he's not alone when he finds out."

"We'll see to it," Poppy said, her voice determined. "He won't be alone, not if I can help it."


	7. Chapter 7

Poppy paused in the narrow yard between the house and his work room, turning her face toward the sky. The weather had cleared, but nothing could break through the industrial pall shrouding the town. Only weak rays were struggling through the gloom, providing little light and no warmth at all. _It might as well be winter_, she grumbled to herself, wrapping her cardigan more tightly.

She surveyed the small building in front of her. The door was shut firmly and the windows were clouded with condensation. She sighed, debating whether she should even bother knocking. A week ago, with the excuse that he needed to 'catch up on work,' Severus had sequestered himself in his workroom. Since then, if he ever entered the house to eat or to sleep, Poppy wasn't aware of it. Her only contact with him recently had been days ago and only because St. Mungo's had requested a follow-up examination. Directly afterward he disappeared again, with no excuse and no apology.

Thinking about it, Poppy grew irritated and her vexation gave her courage enough to approach the door.

"Severus!" she called, hammering on the door with the flat of her hand.

A moment passed, and the door opened a crack, revealing only a small sliver of the interior. "Go away, Poppy," he said, his voice gravelly and hoarse.

"I need to talk to you," Poppy said, moving closer to try to wedge herself through the doorway. "I have some news."

He was silent as he considered and then opened the door just wide enough to allow her inside.

"Quickly," he said. "Before the humidity level drops."

The close, steamy air hit Poppy like a physical force and it took her a moment to register the potent aromas filling the space. She recognized eucalyptus first, then peppermint, and finally a hint of rosemary and sage.

Severus returned to the work bench and stood with his back to her, a small cauldron bubbling away at his elbow.

"What are you brewing?" Poppy asked, finding it hard to get the words out. The hot, damp air was making it hard to breathe.

He pulled a glass stirring rod through the mixture and turned toward her, leaning against the edge of the table for support. "I don't wish to chit-chat with you," he said shortly. "Tell me your news and then leave me alone."

"I'll get right to it," Poppy said, removing a handkerchief from her pocket to dab at her face. "Minerva received a letter from St. Mungo's this morning. Her latest examination was clear. She's been officially released from quarantine."

His only reply was an upraised eyebrow.

"I see I'll have to drag it out of you," Poppy said, her head beginning to swim. "Have you received your post today?"

He gestured toward the surface of the worktable behind him. It was nearly obscured by the swirling clouds of steam, but Poppy could make out an untidy stack of letters.

"And?" she said. "Anything from St. Mungo's?"

"Yes," he said, reaching over to pluck out a thick parchment envelope. He shook open the letter and held it out towards her. "Beatrice was discharged to the care of her guardian this morning."

Poppy scanned the letter quickly. This was good news indeed. She had been nearly as concerned for the frail Slytherin girl as she had been for the girl's Head of House.

Poppy read through the letter twice more. "You've also been released from quarantine," she said. "You know what this means, don't you? You'll be free of us at last."

He sat heavily on a nearby stool and Poppy turned her full attention to him.

"Why aren't you celebrating?"

His face, illuminated by the weak light entering a window, showed the strain of weeks of illness. He was still very pale, with dark shadows smudging his eyes. His breathing was loud, almost rasping in the silence, and Poppy suddenly felt cold despite the stifling atmosphere.

"Severus," she said quietly. "I performed an examination not two days ago and it showed no trace of active pertussis. At the time you assured me you were feeling well. Has anything changed?"

"I'm sure it's nothing," he mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

"But you_ are_ feeling ill?" Poppy approached him, taking one thin wrist between her thumb and forefinger. His pulse was rapid underneath her fingertips. "For how long?"

He jerked his arm away in irritation and used both hands to massage his temples wearily. "A week, give or take a few days."

"But..the examination," Poppy began and then stopped. Two days prior she had performed only a cursory diagnostic exam for pertussis, not an overall physical exam. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I was sick to death of your constant scrutiny and your interminable nagging," he said, his roughened voice rising slightly.

"So you thought you'd take care of it on your own?" she asked, but her indignation vanished quickly when he folded forward in a sudden intense coughing fit.

The cough was deep, rattling in his chest, and almost painful to hear. She stood nearby, patting him ineffectively on the back as it racked his thin frame. She passed him a handkerchief as the fit passed and he slumped over the table.

"It's not pertussis," Poppy said after a few moments when he recovered himself. "I know that much at least."

"How can you be certain?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

She hesitated. Severus normally didn't have the stomach for gruesome medical details. "Your cough is of a different quality this time," she said simply.

Poppy scrutinized the workspace more closely. All of the clues she failed to notice initially were there: Piles of handkerchiefs, empty potion bottles, and an herbal formula for coughs brewing in the small cauldron.

"As I said, it's not pertussis, but you're clearly ill. Probably a secondary infection of some sort." She removed her wand from her robes and frowned after tracing a quick pattern in the air. "The humidity in here plays hell with the diagnostic calibrations. Will you come in the house so I can do a more thorough examination?"

He began to rise from his seat but then flopped down again. "Where is Minerva?"

"Oh don't worry about her," Poppy assured him. "She no sooner opened her letter than she began to pack for her trip. We daren't go near the bedroom until she's finished."

Once in the house, Poppy motioned toward the chair in the sitting room. "Make yourself comfortable," she said. "This will take a bit."

Before he even took a seat, she began a quick head-to-toe scan. Each finding deepened the frown on her face: Elevated temperature. Elevated respiratory rate. _Damn it_.

"I need to listen to your chest," she said, stepping near him and murmuring "_Ausculto_." She closed her eyes in concentration. "Take a few deep breaths."

The crackles magnified by her auscultation spell were fine, but distinctly audible. Poppy pulled her wand away as he began coughing harshly again. She quickly conjured a tumbler of water and pressed it into his hand as the paroxysm eased.

"Bronchitis," she said, watching him drain the glass. "Perhaps the start of a mild case of pneumonia."

"Both easily remedied," he said, shrugging.

"Then why have none of your remedies worked?" she said sharply. Her tone softened as she added, "You should have never gone out in that dreadful weather in a compromised condition."

"Is it your day to nag me about that?" he asked, his tone falsely bright. "I hadn't realized. I lost track after the first week."

Poppy sat down near him, gnawing thoughtfully on her thumbnail. Severus frowned when he noticed what she was doing. "Out with it," he said.

She stopped chewing, eyebrows raised. "Out with what?"

"You know very well that you only ever do_ that_," he said, gesturing impatiently toward her upraised hand, "when you're turning over something devious in your mind. So, tell me what you're thinking."

She sat forward, clasping her hands between her knees. "You know we were invited to stay at the manor where Minerva's family spends the summer," she began.

"An invitation I remember declining..."

"Minerva is Apparating there first thing tomorrow morning," Poppy said, ignoring him. "And I have a Portkey arranged for myself a few days from now."

"A Portkey." A faint smile of amusement appeared on his face. "Ah. Do your innumerable talents not extend to Apparition?"

"Oh, I can Apparate well enough," she said crossly. "But I don't know the area. I'd rather not splinch myself into a tree if it can be helped."

"I do hope you have a delightful trip," he said, beginning to rise from his chair. "If we've finished?"

"Sit down," Poppy said. "We are most certainly not finished."

"I believe we are," he said stonily, regarding her from his full height.

"Hear me out, please." Poppy said, resisting the urge to reach out and give him a shake. "The manor, from what I've been told, is a lovely, sprawling old house on spacious grounds. There's more than enough room for all of us and a change of scenery would do you good. You'd have a few weeks to get your feet back under you before term begins. What do you say?"

"My answer is still no, Poppy. Absolutely not." He sat again, the effort of standing leaving him shivering and pale.

"Severus, you're ill," she said. "You need plenty of rest and fresh air and regular meals. If you're on your own, I can't be certain you'll see to any of that."

"Despite what you and Minerva seem to think, I can take care of myself."

Poppy scoffed. "You are highly capable, Severus, but you also give your own needs lowest priority unless someone keeps after you."

"Leaving aside your ridiculous sentimentality," he said, "My time would be better served here where I can catch up on my work. As I'm sure you're aware, I'm weeks behind in the brewing schedule for the Infirmary."

"And you of all people should remember it's impossible to prepare an effective healing potion while in a state of physical illness." She spread her hands, daring him to object. "Even if you wanted to catch up, you're incapable at the moment."

Ignoring this, he persisted. "I also have lesson plans to prepare and O.W.L and N.E.W.T scores to post."

"Neither of which you can do until we have access to our offices again, which won't be for another week when Albus returns from abroad."

He buried his head in his hands, his fingers working his scalp in frustration.

"Severus, please come with me," Poppy said. "I can't bear to think of you here, alone, while you're still ill."

"Has it been so terrible, Poppy?" he asked, without looking up. She was unable to tell if he was insulted or not.

"Not_ terrible_, no. But even you must admit that this environment isn't conducive to your recovery. The stench from the river alone is enough to set you back a few weeks."

"I'm not feeling well," he admitted quietly. "And a long-distance Portkey sounds hellish at the moment."

"I know. But that's even more reason to come along," she said. "With enough fever draughts and analgesics, I can prop you up for the journey. And once you're there, you can rest and you don't have to socialize with anyone unless it suits you."

He lifted his head long enough to give her an incredulous look.

"You don't have to socialize with anyone at all," she corrected herself.

He shook his head and pushed himself out of the chair.

"Don't make me resort to begging, Severus," she said, rising to follow him from the room. "The Portkey is scheduled for two days from now. If I contact the Ministry right away, it can be reauthorized in plenty of time."

Poppy quickened her pace to match his long strides as he headed outside. "Will you at least think about it?" she called, raising her voice as he disappeared into his work room.

His only answer was the emphatic slamming of the door.


	8. Chapter 8

He'd come on holiday against his will but had no strength to resist when Poppy insisted. He'd also listened when she asked him to bring nothing which would reminded him of the duties awaiting after their holiday ended; no journals, no lesson plans, no correspondence. And after a few rough days, during which he spent more time asleep than awake, he was slowly beginning to regain some strength.

In his everyday life he tended to shy away from bright sunlight, but the estate seemed a separate world where the light fell softly on the grounds. From the first day, he was drawn to a certain spot by the lake, a flat outcropping of rock on the shore. During the morning it soaked up the sun and by afternoon, dappled shade covered the area. He loved to lie there, eyes closed, listening to distant sounds carrying in the breeze, feeling the residual heat warming every tired inch of his body.

This day was no different and he found himself stretched out again, the light filtering through the trees making pleasant patterns against his closed eyes

"It's a beautiful spot, isn't it?"

The soft, feminine voice startled him from a near-doze and he rolled to a sitting position, feeling suddenly disoriented. A young woman stood nearby wearing a Muggle-style dress, smiling shyly, her black hair caught up in a loose plait.

"Do you mind if I join you?" she said. "I understand if you'd rather be alone."

Judging from her hair color and familiar features, she was a member of the family. Severus preferred the solitude, but as a guest, he knew it would be rude to refuse her. The estate was large and he could easily find another spot if he wished, but he found himself in no great hurry to go anywhere.

He watched as she approached the edge of the lake, slipping off her sandals as she walked. She turned to look over her shoulder.

"I haven't introduced myself, have I? I'm Maighdlin. But everyone calls me Maddie." She raised her eyebrows, waiting for his response. When none was forthcoming, she said, "And you're Severus, aren't you?"

He nodded, still undecided if he wanted to leave.

"I see our mothers both had a sense of humor when it came to naming their offspring." She stood near the water's edge, looking around with satisfaction. "May I sit with you?"

His mind made up, Severus moved over to make room for her.

"You're feeling better now, I hope?" Maddie asked, after they had both settled themselves.

He considered her question for a long moment. He lacked his usual strength, still had a hacking cough that would come out of nowhere and leave just as quickly, but in the past few weeks he had slept more often and more peacefully than he could ever remember.

"Never mind," she said, leaning back on her elbows. "You don't need to answer. It's no great secret you've been unwell and it was terribly nosy of me to ask." She turned her head and studied him for a long moment until he glanced away. "You certainly look much better now than the day you got here," she said.

He gulped, vague memories of that day still fresh. "You...witnessed my arrival?"

"We all did!" Maddie said. "Of course, we were expecting Poppy around that time, but never imagined you'd appear, too. And right in the middle of our picnic." She smiled. "And I do mean directly in the middle. I believe your foot went into the platter of ham before you fainted."

Severus remembered nothing but his head spinning, the sickening green blur of the surrounding scenery, voices rising and falling and blending and then nothing else until he awoke in a room filled with shifting patterns of light and shadow. He gave a soft groan, imagining the scene. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but he felt his face flush. Maddie's eyes widened in response.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean to embarrass you!" she said. "I'm sorry. But still, it's a wonderfully funny story, don't you think? Once we knew you were going to be okay, it certainly livened up an otherwise drab afternoon."

She scooted close to the water's edge and dipped her feet into the water, moving them gently up and down. "Besides, I'm amazed at anyone who can travel using magic. I'm constantly sick when I have to travel any distance at all. I can only imagine what a Portkey would do to me." She shuddered. "Never mind me." she said. "I tend to blather on a bit when I'm nervous."

He was tempted to slip off his own shoes and dangle his feet in the water to feel the cold, slick surface of the rocks - something he hadn't done since he was a boy, at least not without the fear of some horrible underwater creature nibbling at him - but he resisted the urge.

"Aunt Minnie tells me you're a professor at Hogwarts?"

"That's right."

Aunt Minnie must certainly be Minerva, but whether the girl was witch or Muggle, he had no way of knowing, so he didn't elaborate.

"Potions, I'm guessing," she said, and then she laughed self-consciously.

Her laugh was light and sparkling and he found himself smiling at her in response.

"I knew you must work with your hands somehow,"she said, placing her fingertips against his wrist lightly, turning his hand palm up. "And at dinner I couldn't help but notice you have a rather elegant way of using a knife. I just put the pieces together."

Meal times at the estate were pleasant affairs, not unlike informal gatherings at the Hogwarts head table. There was enough laughter and chatter to allow him to blend into the background so he could enjoy a meal and the company of others without feeling obliged to participate. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of being studied so closely by this girl when he wanted so much to remain unnoticed and made a move to pull away from her grasp.

Then Maddie ran one finger down the center of his palm and he shivered, forgetting all his misgivings. She held his hand a moment before releasing her grasp. She smiled at him and then turned her attention to a group of ducks on the lake.

Severus searched his mind for something to say, but the minutes passed with nothing from either of them. Rather than being awkward, the silence felt comfortable and companionable. Maddie seemed at ease with his lack of conversation, but then he felt the burning, stitching pain in his chest, the unmistakable sign of an imminent coughing fit. He scrambled to his feet and moved quickly toward a lakeside copse, hoping she would not follow. He heard hesitant footfalls behind him and moved farther into the brush until he could walk no farther. His fingertips gripped the trunk of a tree as he folded forward, unable to control the intensity of the violent coughing spasm that seized him.

There was always one frightening moment when he was sure he'd never catch his breath again, and as Severus retched and wheezed helplessly, he felt a gentle hand settle on his back. It calmed him and slowly the paroxysm began to pass. He remained bent over where he stood, using the tree for support as he wiped his eyes.

Maddie's hand came into his field of vision, two wrapped sweets in her palm.

"Have one," she said. "It might help."

He was too drained to explain that the problem wasn't his throat, it was weeks of pertussis, then a chest cold and an exhausting Portkey journey that put him in bed for days. At this point he would be surprised if he had any healthy lung tissue remaining, but at the risk of sounding churlish, he took a candy with trembling fingers.

"Why don't you come and sit back down?"she suggested. "You've gone a bit peaky."

Maddie looped her arm through his and walked with him slowly back to the water's edge. He hated being mothered, resented the feeling of weakness and dependency but he sensed none of that with her. He even felt comfortable enough to stretch out again in his original spot, his jumper pillowed under his head.

"Severus?"

The whisper came from nearby. He felt hair tickling his face and opened his eyes, finding Maddie reclining on one elbow, her face just inches from his own. "I'm going to leave you alone so you can nap in peace," she said. "But I thought I should warn you first..."

A warning? He sat up then, all senses alert. It seemed as if this place was a world apart, where nothing from the outside could intrude. He should have known better. Regardless of what Poppy and Minerva told him about relaxing, this is what happened when he let his guard down. The previously idyllic setting seemed vaguely sinister now as he waited for her to speak.

"Relax. It's nothing bad," Maddie said. "It's my sister, Maisie. I know she's been pestering you all week."

Despite the lingering worry, Severus smiled, thinking of the child who had taken to following him around the estate, usually with a book clutched tightly in one chubby fist. Whenever she found him, Maisie would insist that he read the same tale over and over. She would sit next to him, one thumb planted in her mouth, leaning into him, intent on the story. Sometimes she returned the favor, spinning fantastic stories from the illustrations. He was surprised to find, after an initial period of irritation, that it wasn't an altogether unpleasant way to pass the time.

"..and she woke this morning with a cold or flu or something. She's been snuffling and sneezing and it's really quite disgusting. I didn't think you'd want her all over you when she's ill. Not when you're still trying to recover."

"Has she had any Pepperup?" He tried to remember if Poppy had brought along a supply.

"Wouldn't work, I'm afraid," Maddie said. "Never has."

At his puzzled expression, she said, "Maisie is a Squib." She looked back toward the lake, a slight frown creasing her forehead. "So am I for that matter, and all my siblings. Not a drop of magical blood in the lot of us. Some kind of genetic aberration, I suppose." She shook her head. "My poor parents."

Maddie rose to her feet, straightening her dress and slipping her sandals back on. "I'll try to keep her away from you, but she's a determined little thing. When it's something she wants, she goes after it."

"I'll keep it in mind," he said, standing and extending his hand to her. "Thank you."

"It was nice to finally have an excuse to meet you, Severus." She grasped his shoulder warmly for a moment and began to move away. "Take care of yourself," she called back to him.

* * *

Poppy and Minerva sat some distance away, reclining in comfortable chairs, their faces shielded from the sun. Poppy was absorbed in a book while Minerva watched the scene unfolding at the edge of the lake with a frown on her face.

"Do you think this is such a good idea?" she asked.

"Mmm?" Poppy turned a page languidly without looking up. "Is what such a good idea?

"You know,"Minerva said, gesturing to where Maddie and Severus were standing closely together. "The two of them. Keeping company."

Poppy looked over the edge of her book. "I don't see where we have much say in the matter."

"I know Maddie well," Minerva said, shifting uneasily in her chair before finally standing up. "She's a dear girl but rather flighty, like her mother."

Poppy put her book aside with a sigh and laced her fingers across her stomach. "Fine thing to say about your favorite great-niece. Besides, flightiness is bred in the family tree, isn't it?."

"I heard that," Minerva said, sounding scandalized. "And I'll have you know I've settled down since."

"I think sometimes you forget that Severus is still a young man. It must be very lonely for him at Hogwarts with no one close to his age. Just a castle full of annoying students and dried-up old colleagues." She watched Maddie walking away, Severus looking after her. "I think he forgets it as well,"she added.

"I don't care to see him hurt," Minerva said.

Poppy laughed, catching her worried expression. "Would you please stop fretting? This isn't about true 's Severus spending a little time with a pleasant and pretty girl close to his own age. You know what he's facing when term begins. Leave them be."


	9. Chapter 9

"I've decided my company must be terribly boring since you're always falling asleep around me."

Severus heard a soft voice close by and woke to find Maddie stretched out next to him. She lay close, her head pillowed on his shoulder, one arm resting across his stomach. He felt groggy and a little confused. If he were dreaming, he wasn't sure he wanted to wake up. He struggled to raise himself but Maddie laughed and held him fast.

"I'm only teasing you," she said. "It's good to see you taking some time to relax."

Lately he'd been spending his days in the fourth-floor library, his mind turning from the summer holiday to more prosaic matters concerning the upcoming term. All of his Slytherins were recovered and preparing for the year and he had far too much to do to leave it until the last minute. He'd even started skipping meals again, forgetting to eat when he became absorbed in his work. But it seemed no matter how preoccupied, every day around he same time he and Maddie would find themselves in their usual spot by the lake.

Maddie rolled over and sat up, smoothing her dress and tucking a few errant strands of hair behind her ears. "I don't know if you've heard about the big to-do in town tonight?"

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to clear some of the fuzziness from his head. "I don't think so," he said. He sat up slowly, feeling a faint wave of dizziness.

"There's a chamber recital at St. Wilmette's and then a formal dinner and dance afterward," she said.

"I'm, uh, not much of a dancer," he said. He would rather be dragged through hot coals backwards than go anywhere near a formal dance.

"But I wasn't…." Maddie threw back her head and laughed. "Oh dear, I wish you could see your face, you look absolutely terrified!" She draped her arm around his shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze. If Severus had learned anything about Maighdlin, it was that she preferred to express affection physically, much to his embarrassment.

"No, my parents are going and I promised I'd keep on eye on Maisie for them," she explained. "I thought you might like to spend the evening with us. Maisie is feeling much better and she's been hounding me to read her book, except I don't do the dragon voice as well as you do."

He hesitated. The student census for the new term would be arriving by owl soon, if it hadn't already, and he wasn't sure he could spare the time for a frivolous evening.

"Will you consider it at least? I know you've been very busy, but surely one night won't hurt anything."

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "What time?"

"Oh, any time after dinner. Maisie has an early bedtime so I promise it won't be all plush animals and picture books." She bounced to her feet and then leaned over to give him a quick kiss before she walked away. Severus watched her go, one hand pressed to his cheek where her lips had touched.

* * *

Severus hesitated outside the door to their rooms. He held a small bouquet of flowers he'd gathered on the grounds, feeling foolish and exposed. He already regretted agreeing to visit.

"Come in!" Severus heard Maddie call at his knock. "It's unlocked!"

He tried the latch and pushed open the door. At this hour the sitting room was dark and empty. Why would a young woman, responsible for the welfare of a small child, leave the door to their quarters unprotected? She was much too trusting.

Maisie, dressed in her finest purple tutu and sparkling tiara, appeared in the doorway to one of the bed chambers. She clapped her hands happily when she saw him.

"Sev'rus, you're here!" she said. "And you have flowers!"

A checkered cloth was spread in the middle of the room, set with candles and plates and a tea set. Several plush animals were in attendance.

"We're having a tea party," Maddie said, from her spot on the floor. "Or a picnic, I'm not sure which."

"We are having a picnic tea party," Maisie said, carefully slipping the flowers into the teapot.

"A picnic tea party, then," Maddie said to Severus. "Have a seat."

"Excuse me, I am the hostess," Maisie said.

Maddie raised her hands in apology and rolled her eyes.

"You can sit between Emma and Wilbur," the young girl said in a bossy manner.

Severus gave Maddie a puzzled glance and she explained. "Emma is the rather creepy doll with the dead eyes..."

"Maddie! She is not."

"And Wilbur is the bear. The purple dragon is Dragon."

Severus lowered himself to the floor, trying to find a comfortable position. Maisie passed him a tiny pink teacup. He wondered at the blackmail potential should Poppy or Minerva happen to wander in and see him sitting cross-legged, balancing a miniscule cup on one knee.

* * *

After a picnic of biscuits and imaginary tea, Maddie announced bath time for Maisie. The little girl began to follow her sister, then had a thought and turned back to Severus.

"After my bath," she asked, "Will you read to me?" She dumped a hardback book with an embossed cover into his lap. He glanced over at Maddie.

"It's fine," she said. "Maisie always has a story after her bath. If you don't mind, that is."

"Yes, of course I will," he told Maisie.

The young girl nodded in satisfaction and marched away. Severus brushed away crumbs and grit and set the book to the side. He was certain by now he could read "The Reluctant Dragon" from memory.

He wandered around the sitting room while he waited. In other people's homes, when given a chance, he liked to look at photographs, read the titles of books in the bookshelves, open drawers to peek at the contents. Some people called it snooping; he preferred to think of it as curiosity. The room was a small space, but turned out cozily. Vases of fresh flowers lined the mantel and several comfortable armchairs overflowing with pillows invited visitors to sit.

He bent to study a large family photo on a side table, a stationary Muggle-style photograph taken recently. Maddie and her sisters strongly favored their mother, all with the same coloring and dark hair. Their father was handsome with a gentle smile creasing his face and their mother obviously adored her children; she gazed at them proudly instead of looking into the camera. Severus touched one finger to the image of Maddie, feeling a sudden wistful longing. He had never experienced being a part of such a happy family.

Severus snatched his hand away when he sensed Maddie walk up behind him.

"That was taken on my dad's birthday." She smiled and picked up the frame, pointing out the older girl standing to her right. "That's my oldest sister, Maiwyn. She's going to have a baby soon."

He nodded. "First grandchild?"

"It is. My parents are over the moon about it, of course." Maddie replaced the picture, turning it slightly as she set it down. "Do you have any brothers or sisters, Severus?"

He shook his head.

"So you're the last of your family line…"

"I would hope so, yes."

She laughed. "Severus, that's a horrid thing to say!" Her smile faltered when she caught his expression. "Oh," she said. "You were serious." She linked her arm with his, pulling him in close. "But you have your friends and colleagues at Hogwarts, of course. Aunt Minnie speaks very highly of you. So you're not alone."

As he opened his mouth to reply, Severus felt the air around him shift and a faint buzz of magical energy crawled across his skin. At a loud thump behind them, they both turned. Maisie stood glowering, hands on her hips. The book lay open on the floor.

"You said you were going to read to me!" she shouted. "Not talk!"

"Maisie Rowena Crenshaw!" Maddie said. "Did you throw that book at us?"

Severus watched the girl closely. She shook her head furiously, seemingly unaware of what she'd done.

"Well, that's it," her older sister said. "You're tired and cranky and you're going straight to bed."

"I didn't throw it!" Maisie said, stomping her foot.

Severus felt the same pulse of energy fill the space. As he glanced to where the book rested, he saw the pages rustle slightly on their own.

"Right now, little madam," Maddie said firmly, taking Maisie by the arm and leading her off into the other room. "You're being quite rude."

"Maisie," he called after her. "I'd like to talk to your sister privately and then I will come in to read to you."

Maddie entered the room a few minutes later, looking tired and fed up.

"I'm sorry Maisie is being so naughty," she said. "Too much excitement after being ill, I would imagine." She sank into one of the comfortable chairs and eased her shoes off with a groan. "Did you say you wanted to speak with me?"

Severus pulled up a chair across from hers and sat on the very edge of the seat, wishing for something to occupy his hands. There was no way to approach the subject delicately and no way of knowing how she would react.

"Maddie," he said. "Have you ever noticed unusual occurrences around your sister lately when she's feeling angry or upset?"

"Nothing in particular. Why do you ask?"

"I'm not certain Maisie threw the book tonight," he said. "Not with her hands at least. And although it was faint, I did see her riffle the book's pages without being near it."

Maddie sat quietly, her forehead creased in thought. "Are you trying to tell me Maisie isn't a Squib?"

"It's hard to say," he said, trying to be gentle. "But what she did tonight is typical for very young witches or wizards when they first come into their abilities."

"I...I don't understand," she said. "The book could have fallen. And maybe a draft moved the pages. How can you be certain?"

He sat back in his chair now that he realized Maddie wasn't going to lose her head.

"I'm very sensitive to the magical energy of others.," he said. "I have been my entire life. It's a distraction at the best of times unless I consciously block it, and at Hogwarts…"

He trailed off, a slight shiver coursing through him at the thought. At Hogwarts, even alone in his quarters, the energy he felt from the students was overwhelming, infuriating, like a constant background noise he couldn't switch off.

"It's why I'm drawn to the lake," he explained. "It's far enough away from the manor house that I can't feel the ebb and flow of other's magic. And it's why I'm always so relaxed around you."

"Because I'm a Squib."

He nodded. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay." She chewed a fingernail thoughtfully. "I suppose I should be flattered."

"I could feel it from Maisie tonight. There is no question she used directed magical energy."

Maddie stared off into the distance for a moment and then turned her attention back to him. "There's a bottle of wine I was saving for tomorrow," she said, rising from her chair. She moved to a small, ornate sideboard and lifted a bottle and two glasses from a wicker hamper. She deftly popped the cork. "But I really need a drink. Right now."

Maddie's fingers brushed his as she handed a glass to him. She plopped back into her seat and tucked her feet into his chair. Severus felt brave enough to rest his hand against her leg.

You're trembling," he said. "Are you cold? I can start a fire."

"No, of course not." She took a deep drink of her wine. "I'm a little shook up, I suppose. It's a lot to take in."

They sat quietly, Severus twirling his full glass in his hands. He drank only on rare occasions, preferring to stay in control of his faculties at all times. He didn't speak, knowing Maddie needed time to process what she'd found out tonight.

"When did you know?"

He frowned as her abrupt question broke the silence. "When did I know what?"

"When did you know you were a wizard?" Maddie fixed him with an intent look. "I mean, did it happen the same way with you? One day, all of a sudden, you could do magic?"

"I don't remember exactly." He set his glass on the floor, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. "My mother was a witch, but we never talked about it much. And my father…"

He swallowed against a sudden lump in his throat, fragments of unwanted memories rising up unbidden, painful moments that still had the power to rouse powerful emotions of shame and fear and anger. Heat flooded his face, he felt trapped, and fought the urge to flee the room.

Maddie leaned forward to grasp one of his hands. "I'm so sorry, Severus," she said. "I didn't mean to bring up a sensitive subject."

He surprised himself by squeezing her hand tightly, her touch calming him. He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, the repetitive motion soothing all the roiling emotions inside.

"It was a long time ago," he said, his voice shaking. "And they've both been gone for many years."

They sat without speaking, not breaking contact, each lost in their thoughts.

"I waited for ages, you know," Maddie said, her eyes on their entwined hands. "Despite what Maiwyn told me, I was convinced she was wrong and I was a very powerful witch. I used to sit and concentrate so hard on doing magic that I'd give myself terrible headaches."

Severus took advantage of her distraction to study her. Her dark hair hung loose around her shoulders and he could see some of Minerva in her eyes and in the way she carried herself. He thought for a moment that with magical ability, Maddie probably would have been as powerful a witch as her great aunt.

"It's so difficult living as a Squib," she said, looking up at him, tears standing in her eyes. "You're forever caught between two worlds and never quite feel at home in either. It's like a half-life, no matter what you do." She dropped his hand and swiped at her face. "The only person who ever understood was Maiwyn. She saved my life. I was…" her voice faltered. "I wasn't hoping that Maisie would be a Squib, but I was fully prepared to help her through as Maiwyn did with me. And god forgive me for saying it, but I feel like I've lost her."

"You haven't lost Maisie," he said. "She'll just have different experiences than you've had."

Maddie sniffled slightly and nodded. "She'll get to see Diagon Alley...and Hogwarts. I always wanted to visit , at least once, but but mum and dad wouldn't hear of it. They told me I'd have to work on finding my own magic. But Maisie…" She retrieved her glass from the floor and drained it. "You might even be her professor one day, more's the pity for you."

The sounds of laughter and and the crash of something falling over in the corridor reached them.

"I think the dance must be over," Severus said.

"Sounds like everyone had a good time," she said. The noise of couples calling goodbye to each other grew louder.

"I should go," he said, standing up. "You'll tell your parents what happened with Maisie? They'll know what to do."

Maddie waved her hand lazily. "Of course I will. They're going to be so happy." She took another long swallow of wine, her eyes growing distant. An expression he couldn't quite read flitted across her face; envy, perhaps, or sadness. He felt at a complete loss.

"Good night, Maddie."

She grabbed his hand before he could walk away. "You're wonderful, did you know that?" Her eyes were half closed, a sleepy smile on her face. "Will you come back tomorrow? You promised Maisie a story, and I'm looking forward to hearing your dragon voice."


End file.
